Will I Ever Return To You?
by Lexipoo-Panda
Summary: First Hetalia story. Germany x Italy3 my favorite pairing. Let me know if you want Italy's POV.


**Hetalia for you. I decided to go with Germany and Italy. I think they are a cute couple. Leave me your thoughts. :3. Let me know if you want Italy's pov. If you like it I mean.**

xxx

_"Germany, where are you going?" he stood in front of me, his golden brown eyes filled with tears. Rushing around the room, I threw on my uniform, my hat, my gloves and my boots, "Germany?"_

_I had to stop. The short brunette in front of me, he was so beautiful. I was trying to avoid him, I didn't want to break down in his presence. I tilted my head down, so the brim of my hat hid my face. My fists clenched, my shoulders shook._

_"I-I'm leavink for var," I said softly, tears stinging my eyes. I heard Italy, before I felt him. He gasped, wrapping his arms around my neck._

_"No, they can't take you," he nuzzled into the crook of my neck. I felt the tears on my neck, soaking my black t-shirt. I squeezed my arms around him, never wanting to leave this moment right here._

_"I'm sorry," I whispered, pulling away from him. He clung to me, locking his arms around my neck. I couldn't stand it anymore. I crashed my lips onto his, giving him my parting gift, "I'm so sorry," I muttered as I left him crying on the floor._

xxx

"How vill he ever forgive me," I mumble, my gaze pinned to the table I am sitting at.

"Who?" America leans across the table, peering over his glasses.

I sigh, trying not to think about it. My head plops to the table, my hands covering it, "ugh!" my voice is muffled by my arms.

"Cheer up man," America claps me on the back, "we need you in the game."

I push my tears back, clenching my fists, "ohkay," I nod, determination replaces my guilt.

xxx

I'm on the front line. My gun is positioned in the ready, as I shoot at our enemy.

"Germany, to your left!" America barks from behind me. Quickly I turn to my left, but not without getting clipped in the shoulder by a bullet. I shoot the man, taking a knee, gritting my teeth against the pain.

"Germany, can you still fight?" at those words my heart sinks. Italy. Will I ever return to you?

"Jes," I stand back up, shooting over America's shoulder. He turns, seemingly indifferent. He smiles at me.

"Thanks man!" he says continuing on the invasion.

xxx

It's been like hell for the passed three months. The commanders say the war is ending. In all that time I have written Italy letters. Plenty of them, but they have never been answered. My heart squeezes as week after week I don't get an answer to my letters.

"Enemy attack!" a soldier screams as an earsplitting bang rips through the camp. The enemy is here and they have just killed one of our own.

Scrambling to my feet, I don't even bother with my coat. Yes it is cold but I have to defend at all costs. My shoulder protests in pain, I grit my teeth and fire at the enemy invaders.

"Stop! Please sto-"

I know that voice. And that's when I see him, his beautiful brown hair, his army uniform. Running out on the battlefield, I shield him from any imminent danger. He was shot. Shot in the stomach. The blue material of his jacket is turning red, rapidly.

"Italy!" I take his hand calling his name. I pick him up. He hugs me around the neck, tightly I might add. A sharp pain digs into my side. I almost fall to the ground, but then I remember I have Italy in my arms. Italy. I can't drop him.

Forcing my legs to move, I take him to the infirmary, but not before I get clipped in the calf and thigh.

"Doctors, please, help," I say weakly, "he's been shot."

"So have you, Germany," one doctor takes Italy from me, another one whisks me away to be treated.

"Please save him!" I yell to the doctor with my beloved Italy.

"I will, I won't let him die on us," the doctor declares, disappearing into the operating room.

"Germany, please, follow me," the doctor tugs on my arm.

"I need to be viz him," I pull against my restraints.

"You need to get fixed first," the doctor counters, managing to get me in a room, "please sit down."

Giving in, I sit heavily on the bed, I sigh. I can't help but worry about him. Why was he here? Why did he come here? He isn't ready for war, "is he gohink to be ohkay?"

"Yes, it was a minor wound in his stomach. He should be fine once they remove the bullet," the doctor turns to me with tweezers and a knife, "you know the drill, Germany."

I sigh, taking off my shirt, not without pain in my shoulder first. My good arm raises to try to sooth the sharp pain in my shoulder.

"Perfect, please, hold still," the doctor nears my bloodied side. He cuts and probes until he comes up with a bullet, "one down two to go," he applied bandages around my waist, "drop em."

I had to do a double take, "ze hell?"

"You got shot in the thigh, your pants won't go up that far, drop em," the doctor is calm, smug even. I sigh, standing up and dropping my pants, "you might want to lay down for this."

Oh the pervertedness in that last sentence. If anything, I feel as though I am going to be jumped. Slowly I crawl onto the bed, lying on my stomach. He cuts and probes two more times, coming up with two more bullets. He patches up my leg and sends me limping off to Italy in another room.

I'm not allowed in the room. They are still operating. My breath fogs up the glass, as the balance of life tips further and further beyond irretrievable. One of the doctors, holds up a bullet, placing it in a metal bowl. They patch up his stomach, waving me in.

"Italy," I coo, brushing hair from his eyes.

"Germany," he smiles up at me, "I wanted to protect you," he whispers, a tear running down his face. I kiss it away.

"You did," I smile down at him, holding tightly onto his hand.

"You got shot," his little fingers trace the bandages around my waist.

"It's okay, I'll be fine," I squeeze his hand, "it's you I'm worried about."

"I'll be fine," he smiles up at me again. It's as if the sunshine has been taken out of the sky and thrown into his smile. So lovely, so bright.

"I love you, Feliciano," I say his real name, leaning close to his face.

"I...love you too...Ludwig," he lifts his head mere inches, gently laying his lips on mine.

**~The End~**


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